Galaga
by ChinamiMorimoto
Summary: (set in the "Inconceivable" AU, rated for sexuality and cursing) Loki wasn't there when Tony Stark had caught a young SHIELD agent playing Galaga on company time. He does know that "Galaga" is what Tony insists on calling this agent. He also knows that this agent seems particularly curious about him, and maybe, just maybe, he might be curious about this agent as well.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This fic is set in the same AU as some of my others and a lot of it happens at the same time as events in my story "Inconceivable." You by no means have to read any of my other stories to enjoy this one but reading "Inconceivable" would provide helpful context for some of this one.**

* * *

"That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did."

Agent Carter Reed cringed inwardly and minimized his game. He was fresh out of the academy, on a telecom desk detail of little import, and had nothing that needed doing at that moment, but it was still embarrassing to be called out. Even worse was being called out by a celebrity. Reed fiddled with his mouse until he felt comfortable with how far the conversation had moved on, then glanced over his shoulder just to make sure, pulled his emulator back up, and resumed playing. This was going to be a long detail if he didn't end up dead.

Within twenty four hours, he was laid up in a very crowded hospital.

* * *

**Six years later:**

Agent Natasha Romanov strode into the break room. "Coulson, there you are. I have a party to invite you to, everyone else is also invited."

Reed glanced up from his cereal.

"A party?" Coulson sounded dubious.

"Stark's throwing it."

"When?"

"July fourth. It's Steve's hundredth birthday and Tony is secretly making a big deal of it. Slight problem in that Steve doesn't know enough people for a big party, so S.H.I.E.L.D. is invited. Basically all of us."

Independence Day rolled around and Reed found himself, along with a hundred odd other agents, in the ballroom of a fancy hotel in downtown New York City. He hovered awkwardly at the corner of a table, glass of champagne in hand. One of his coworkers, Sharon, came up and put her arm around his shoulders. "Reed, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just, the last time I was around members of the Avengers Initiative—other than Romanov and Barton—I wound up hospitalized."

"I think that's true for almost everyone here. Lucky me, last time I was around them was at Stark and Cap's wedding."

"You went to their wedding?"

Sharon shrugged. "My aunt knew the Captain. She was invited."

"Oh."

Later in the evening, Reed found himself sitting at a table with all the Avengers, Agent Coulson, Agent Hill, and a handful of his other colleagues who Romanov, Rogers, and Stark were steadily drinking under the table. Reed dropped a hand pf cards, having just been beaten at blackjack by Romanov yet again.

"Hey, you," Stark gestured at Reed, who looked up, startled.. "Where have I seen you before? I've seen you before."

"He's the guy who was playing Galaga on the Helicarrier during our first mission as a team." Romanov took a swig from a bottle of flavored vodka and collected up the cards. "Agent Carter Reed, level two, technologies department."

"Thank you, Agent Romanov." Reed flushed with embarrassment. "I was hoping no one remembered that."

Stark laughed. "Ah, Galaga!"

Reed cringed internally, knowing instinctively that 'Galaga' was going to be his new nickname for the rest of forever.

Across the table, Captain Rogers took his husband's hand. "Hard to believe that was seven years ago."

"Says the man born in nineteen-twenty." Barton examined the label on the wine bottle he was drinking from, then held it up in a toast.

"Point made." The Captain chuckled.

"I think the harder thing to believe is that I was clinically dead at the time, and the two of you hated each other." Coulson ate a potato chip. "Look how far we've come."

A smooth voice cut into the conversation. "But then as now, I turn up unannounced and uninvited." A tall, handsome man sidled up to the table, and Reed's blood ran cold. It was Loki. Along with every other agent, Reed drew his weapon and trained it on the prince's head. Loki paid the arsenal no mind. "No thanks to my brother, I've gotten leave to join the celebration. Have a present." He set a delicately tooled leather bound sketchbook on the table.

Captain Rogers picked the book up. "Wow, this is nice. Thank you."

"I'd heard you draw." The raven haired madman turned to Coulson, sounding bored, and looked at the agent's gun. "I've no plan to kill you again, you can put that away. That goes for all of you. Most of you seem too knackered to aim properly regardless."

Reed adjusted his grip on his pistol but made no move to put it down. No other agents put their weapons away, either. Loki shrugged, and took a seat next to Reed, which caused the young agent's heart to beat a tattoo against his ribs. Loki poured himself a glass of champagne, and looked at the Captain. "So you've made it a century. Not much by my book, but quite an achievement for a human—though I dare say being cryogenically frozen qualifies as cheating."

"You really are going to make a habit of this, aren't you?" Stark griped.

"When I can." Loki sipped his champagne.

Reed lowered his gun slightly, studying the man sitting next to him. He was dressed in a well-tailored charcoal suit and had matching chain bracelets around each slender wrist. His bright green eyes glittered as though lit from within with a kind of mischievious glee that made Reed extremely nervous.

"What do you mean he's going to make a habit of this?" Agent Hill shot Stark a look.

"He sort of crashed my forty-first birthday."

"I did. We played poker." Loki set his glass down; Reed thought he saw the glittering eyes flick in his direction. "I don't intend to be here long."

The Captain fingered the corner of his new sketchbook. "If he's not going to be here long, I think it's safe for the weapons to be put away. Please."

Slowly, the arsenal was stowed, but the agents maintained a wary surveillance of the uninvited guest. The card games resumed, but the drinking and chitchat was stilted. Reed took a new hand of cards and allowed himself to tune out the conversation that had started up over whether the sketchbook was cursed. It must not have been because soon it was being passed around to be doodled in. When it got to Reed, there was already a school of fish and a fishhook drawn on the first page. With a private grin, Reed added a Magikarp and passed the sketchbook on.

When Loki vanished about a half hour later, Reed found himself inexplicably missing the presence to his left. Coulson turned on Rogers. "Why, exactly, were you defending him?"

Everyone looked up to watch what was bound to be an interesting argument. Reed, for one, was curious to see the legendary agent with his feathers ruffled for once.

"Because I didn't want a fight, and I actually believe he means no harm," the Captain explained patiently.

"He—"

Rogers cut Coulson off. "Is unstable and tried to kill you, I know, but—"

"He _did_ kill me."

"You don't look very dead to me, Phil. You weren't out for all that long, and I'm sure it was traumatic, but you didn't miss much and when you woke up everyone you knew was still alive, so I apologize for not being impressed. I prefer to see the best in people, you know that. God knows I must, or I wouldn't be married. As such, I am prepared to give Loki the benefit of the doubt. I'd appreciate others doing the same. If you treat someone like a monster, that's all they can ever be."

Coulson stared at him. Several agents blinked. Reed liked the Captain's logic, even if everyone else thought the man had lost his mind.

"Shame we can't chalk that little spiel up to the wine." Stark said while patting his husband on the arm. "Anyway, I'm gonna say we should all go home. Yes, this is me trying to defuse a situation, not my strong suit. So, yeah, everybody to the coatcheck."

After that, the party dissolved. Reed walked home to his New York apartment, wondering about the mysterious, panther of a man he'd just encountered and whom he wouldn't encounter again for another four years.


	2. Chapter 2

One distinct disadvantage of living in New York, Agent Reed thought as he made the long elevator ride to the top of Stark Tower, was that hand delivering files to members of the Avengers always seemed to fall to him because it was supposedly more convenient for him. He sighed. He was supposed to be off the clock already. The elevator opened and Reed stepped out. "Afternoon, Mr. Stark."

Tony Stark made a sound in his throat and turned around halfway through crossing the room. "What is with you people and just showing up in my elevator? Wait, Galaga, is that you?"

"That is not my name, and we've met several times. You know full well it's me." Reed took a couple steps into the room and was met by Agent Romanov. "This is for you." He held out a file.

She took it. "Thank you."

Reed was about to leave when Loki entered, dragging with him Stark's daughter, Ana, who was clinging to his waist. Reed reached for his hip but Natasha grabbed his wrist before he got there. "Stand down."

"But—"

"I said, _stand down_."

With a glance at the prince, Reed relaxed his arm. Natasha eased her grip. Ana released her hold on her god uncle and went to stand behind her father. Loki didn't move.

Agent Romanov gave her subordinate a serious look. "Though the rest of this building is a corporate headquarters, when you reach these top few floors you are in a family home. The home of a very screwed up family, to be sure, but a family home nonetheless. God knows how, but he has wound up being that uncle that no one likes to talk about because he needs rehab for too many reasons, but you still don't kick him out when he shows up for dinner. S.H.I..E.L.D. does not need to know about this, are we clear?"

Reed glanced at Loki again then looked back at Natasha. "Withholding information is—"

"Yes, I know, but there are things S.H.I..E.L.D. is better off not knowing or not knowing immediately. "

Reed took a breath, glanced again, and nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Natasha let go of his wrist and punched his shoulder. "God, you're still a newby ten years in."

"Now that that's worked out—" Tony put an arm around his daughter "—please go away."

Reed turned and retreated to the elevator. Once the doors had closed, Loki strode across the room and grabbed his coat from where he'd left it on the sofa. Natasha stepped toward him. "Whoa, where are you going?"

"To rehab."

Tony frowned. "You mean, 'get drunk,' I think."

"What else would I mean?" He made for the stairs.

"Don't you dare kill anything!" Natasha yelled after him.

* * *

Reed saw himself out and turned casually down the sidewalk. He heard another pair of footsteps trot up behind him.

"Keep walking, I'd like a word," Loki said quietly.

Reed froze. "What?"

"I said I'd like a word, now keep walking, you are going somewhere aren't you?"

"Home, where I really don't want you following me."

"Unless you live within a block or two, I'll have said my piece long before you get there. Walk, we look like idiots just standing here."

Hesitantly, Reed obeyed. "So, what?"

"You're scared of me."

"No—"

"Most people are, I can't blame them, no use in you denying it, I'm accustomed to it. However, there's something else, isn't there?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"S.H.I..E.L.D. agents watch threats, I've spent enough time around your lot to notice how you've all been trained. That's not what you were doing. You're curious."

Reed made a sound of irritation, not sure why he was still talking to Loki. "What's your point?"

"My point is, I'd rather like to bed you and suspect you just might want me to do so."

Read stopped dead in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You're out of your mind."

Loki sighed and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. "So I've been told. Repeatedly."

"You've got to be kidding."

"For all your apparent objection, I notice you aren't saying no."

Reed glanced around. There was no one on the block. "What if I do?"

"Hm?"

"What if I do say no?"

"I'll leave you be."

"Oh, really?" Reed was skeptical.

"Yes."

Reed could not believe he was having this conversation. He snorted derisively, then made the mistake of allowing himself to imagine what could happen. He felt himself flush

"If you say yes, then we had best find a bed."

The color in Reed's cheeks rose slightly. "After that, what happens?"

"I think that depends on things neither of us can know until it's happened."

Reed took a step back, crossed his arms, and stared at the nearest street sign. He didn't know why he was even still there, it was ridiculous, he couldn't, he was a S.H.I..E.L.D. agent, and here was former public enemy number one, and yet. "S.H.I..E.L.D. would probably notice if you showed up at my apartment."

Loki almost let himself grin. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes. Now, where to before I can talk sense into myself?"

"This way." Loki turned back the way they came. Reed followed and didn't protest until they were reentering the tower, through the back.

"What are we doing here?"

"I have a room. Jarvis, I'd appreciate it if no one knew I or my guest were here."

"I can arrange that, sir."

"Thank you." He pulled Reed to the service elevator.

"What do you mean you have a room?"

The elevator stopped and Loki ushered Reed out in front of him and down the hallway. "I have an arrangement with Stark." He opened a door, let Reed go in ahead of him, stepped in, shut the door, let the electronic lock catch, and turned to the agent. "And at the moment I have an arrangement with you.." He shrugged out of his coat, started on the buttons of his shirt, then nodded at Reed. "Off."

Eyes on the floor, Reed unzipped his jacket, pushed it off his shoulders, and pulled off his shirt underneath. Now shirtless as well, Loki pressed Reed to the wall, a hand under his jaw, and kissed him hungrily. Whatever uncertainty he had left fled as Reed's mind blanked. Loki's touch was cool—cooler than the brisk weather could account for—and forceful, but not cruel. On instinct, Reed reached up to wind his hands into Loki's hair—he must have been at least a foot shorter than him. Loki's other hand trailed down Reed's side to the band of his pants, making him shiver from contact or cold or both. Kissing back just as fiercely as he was being kissed, Reed untangled his fingers and ran his hands down Loki's frame, the length of which was just as cool as his hands, The man was perfect, though Reed wasn't sure what else to expect. Loki's skin was the pale even shade of hard packed snow tinged pink by early dawn. Reed felt a wild impulse to somehow mark that expanse of alabaster like leaving footprints in the first crystalline fall of winter. Putting his hand on Loki's upper arm, Reed realized that, by contrast, his own skin felt hot. As he ran his fingertips up Loki's arm, he almost expected the taller man's skin to sizzle. Loki stepped back. The force pressing Reed's back to the wall was removed and he had to take a step forward to keep his balance.

Reed looked up into Loki's face and saw that his pupils were blown out. Obviously tense, Loki took another step back, seeming for all the world like a stag ready to flee back into a dark forest.

Reed wasn't sure why he felt the need to push at Loki's boundaries. He knew the prince was dangerous. A sorcerer. A killer. More than an ordinary killer. Someone who could tear Reed apart with little effort. Even so—stronger than he looked due to years of physical training—Reed grabbed Loki's shoulder hard enough to hurt and dragged him back into their interrupted kiss.

Loki growled wordlessly and Reed felt the clasp of his pants being undone. They immediately slid off his hips from the weight of the crap in his myriad pockets. Then he nearly lost his balance as he was pulled bodily to the bed and pushed down onto it.

Laying next to Loki as the raven stared, unseeing, at the ceiling, Reed rolled over to press his forehead to Loki's chest. One of Loki's hands crept gently around Reed's shoulder before suddenly pushing him away. Loki half sat up and wound up leaning on an elbow staring at his bed partner. Reed touched the man's chest and Loki took a slight breath. By now, Reed was certain that the heat of his skin was as alluring to the prince as Loki's coolness was to him.

Reed sat up so that he was looking down at Loki. "You don't always have to be so controlled."

Defensively, Loki sat up and turned toward the wall. "Yes I do."

Reed turned Loki's face back toward him. The look in his eyes was haunted, grim, uncomfortable. With sudden insight, the smaller man knew he was looking into an abyss of loneliness. He ran his fingers gently along Loki's jaw. "You don't have to be alone."

Loki's eyes widened before he regained control and scowled. "I don't commit, if that's what you're looking for."

Reed laughed. "Me, looking? You approached me."

Loki's frown deepened. After a moment he clasped Reed to himself as though they could somehow melt together. Reed felt that he was being pulled into a vast chasm of ache that Loki rarely examined, much less showed to anyone else. Reed knew he was strong enough to survive that chasm even if he could never quite fill it. He doubted anyone could. He tucked his face into the crook of Loki's neck. "We're doing that again, by the way. Not now, I think I'd die, but this is not a one time thing."

Loki released Reed enough to give him a hard look before nodding. He ran his fingers with surprising gentleness through his prize's cropped brown hair to rest on his neck, making him shiver. "Agreed."

Reed suppressed a grin, sat up, stood, and reached for his clothes. Twice over the next two months he found himself in the same situation. Reed had the distinct impression that Loki tried but couldn't stay away. Loki sought him out again after another three weeks, but this time, as Reed made to leave, he was interrupted by a lithe arm wrapping itself around his waist and pulling him back to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

"Agent Romanov?" Reed leaned around the frame of Natasha's door at the tower he was getting increasingly comfortable letting himself into.

"How many times am I going to tell you that you can call me Natasha before you believe me?" The redhead didn't even look up from the file she was reading

"I still get a 'I'll kill you for over familiarity' vibe off of you, so probably a lot. Anyway, I have a question."

"Ask away."

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. pays my rent, safe to say my apartment is bugged to high heaven?"

"Oh yeah. Let me guess, you want to unbug it."

"If possible."

"Of course it's possible. And yes I can do it. Why, you finally got yourself a boyfriend?" She grinned at him. "Oh, don't look so surprised. When you work with as many top-rung spies as we do, there is no closet."

"I'm not closeted, just discreet. Or so I thought."

"No, you are, it's just not very effective. Believe me though, I understand the discretion; S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't need to know what happens in your bed, or on your couch, or on your kitchen table."

"Oh my God, Natasha..." Reed scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Hey! There we go with the familiarity. Also you just proved me right." She stood. "C'mon, I'm not doing anything important or interesting, we can go debug your place right now."

"You are a saint." Reed followed her to the elevator.

"I've shed an awful lot of blood for a saint."

"I dunno, Joan of Arc was a soldier, then there's Santiago the Moore Slayer..."

"Oh, shut up."

"Shutting up." He followed her out into the parking deck and to an understated black sports car which they both folded themselves into.

"So, how'd a work horse like you get in a non-work relationship?" She sped out of the garage and turned onto the right street to go to Reed's apartment.

"I got picked up. Do you know where I live?"

"Of course I know where you live. What do you mean you got picked up?"

"Of course you know where I live." He sighed. "I was somebody's one night stand, which is now a four night stand..."

"Well, sounds like that went well."

"You could say that. But, uh, he's got roommates..."

"I see."

* * *

Sitting alone on the edge of his bed in his newly debugged apartment, Reed twirled his phone between his fingers several times, then steeled himself and punched in a number he had little hope would work. After seven rings the line picked up.

"Tell me you're going to provide an excuse for me to not be where I am right now."

Reed couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you'd pick up, I didn't think you actually had a phone—"

"Of course I have a phone, even Thor has a phone. I'm being pelted with snowballs by two twelve year olds, a five year old, and an overzealous Asgardian toddler, _do I have a reason to leave_?"

"Uh, well, uh, yes. My apartment is, uh, safe now, so I thought maybe—"

"I'll be right there."

The call ended. Reed stared at his phone until there was a knock at his door. He jumped up and ran to the door, plastering himself against it to look out the peep hole before throwing it open with a grin. "Hi."

"Hi." Loki pulled Reed into his arms and kicked the door shut behind them.

A couple hours later, Reed was seeing him out the door again. A couple hours wasn't much, but it was about as long as either of them dared spend with the other. For a year, if Loki was on Earth and Reed wasn't on assignment, they'd find a couple hours. Later in the year, they were sometimes together a little longer. Reed told himself he didn't mind, it wasn't as if they were dating. Natasha kept probing him with questions about his "boyfriend," to which he responded that he didn't have one. And he didn't. He was just sporadically sleeping with the Norse god of mischief, no big deal. Staring at his phone one disgustingly late night, debating hitting the call button for the contact labeled "Green Eyed Jackass," Reed wondered how his life had turned into a bad gay erotica novel. He could probably trace it back to spying on the foster kids hi parents were always taking care of on their farm in upstate New York. Back then all he had was cheap gear he'd gotten from the school bookfair, but that was definitely part of how he'd wound up with S.H.I.E.L.D, which was indirectly but undeniably how he'd wound up where he was now. He hit the call button.

A couple hours later, tangled in Reed's bedsheets with him, Loki sighed. "I should go."

Eyes closed, Reed pressed his face to Loki's shoulder. "Do you have to?"

"Carter, it's late."

"So stay the night." Reed moved to lay curled against Loki's chest. He didn't want to move. It had been a long day and, as lanky and angular as Loki was, he made a good pillow.

Loki hesitated, ran a hand through Reed's hair and down his neck, then let his eyes close. He felt Reed's breathing slow as the smaller man fell asleep and was struck by a sharp twinge of protectiveness that prompted him to wrap Reed in his arms before allowing sleep to claim him as well. When next Loki opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming through chinks in the blinds over the window on the east wall, painting stripes across his torso and the empty bed he lay in. He sat up slowly before getting up. Redressed, followed the sounds of clattering and quiet cursing to the kitchen and then paused in the doorway. Reed looked around at him from the stove. "Hey, uh, I didn't want to wake you, I get up at like six. I'm making french toast, uh, do you like french toast?" he asked stiltedly. "Sorry, this is awkward, isn't it?"

"Slightly." Loki took a seat at the formica topped island, leaned on his elbows and massaged his temples.

Reed bit back a grin. "Not a morning person?"

"No."

"Do you drink coffee?"

"Occasionally."

"How do you take it?"

"In a way you are going to find strange."

Reed plated his french toast, set the pan in the sink, and leaned on the island across from Loki. "How d'you like your coffee?"

"Black, over ice."

"Can't say I've heard that one before, but easy enough." He turned away, took the half empty pot from his Mr. Coffee and stuck it in the freezer then returned to the island. He hesitated a breath then reached out to run his fingers through Loki's sleep tousled hair in an attempt to tame it. "French toast?"

"I've never had it."

Reed quirked an eyebrow, grabbed his plate, and came around to sit next to Loki. "Try a bite."

Loki took the proffered fork, ate a roughly cubic inch, and made a face of disgust. "Too sweet."

"Well then," Reed took his fork back and ate some of his breakfast, "gimme a minute and I'll make you some without maple syrup. It's the syrup that's sweet, not the toast itself."

"You needn't go to the trouble."

"We've been seeing each other for a year, I highly doubt you can actually cook, and it's my kitchen anyway. I'm going to make you breakfast." He kissed Loki before he could object, quickly finished his own french toast, then got up to make some for Loki. He paused, got the coffee pot out of the freezer, poured some over ice in a mug, set it on the island, and returned to cooking.

After Loki had eaten his syrup-less french toast, he studied Reed a moment. "Do you not have to work today?"

Reed shook his head. "If I did I'd already be gone. I'm off today."

"What do you ordinarily do on your days off?"

"Mope around my apartment, eat, and play video games." He motioned across the room to his television and the bookcase next to it which, instead of books, was piled with easily a dozen different game consoles.

Loki quirked an eyebrow. "That sounds like the twins when they're bored."

"The Stark-Rogers twins?"

"To what other twins would I be referring?"

"I don't know. How am I supposed to know how many pairs of twins you know? Nevermind." He tapped his fingers on the formica, feeling slightly giddy. "Uh, do you maybe wanna play?"

Reed sounded so hopeful, Loki couldn't help but smile—though it may have turned out as more of a smirk. "I'm afraid I don't know how."

"I could show you."

Loki sighed. "Only because you seem so intent on this am I agreeing."

Reed's face broke into an elated grin, he kissed Loki's cheek, took his hand, and dragged him to the couch. Loki watched in silence as Reed pushed buttons on the TV and various boxes around the TV until a logo came up on the screen and he handed Loki a controller. "Have you ever heard of Mario?"

"From the twins, yes." Loki turned the controller over in his hands.

"Can you drive?"

"In theory."

"Perfect. We're playing MarioKart." With a quick flash of a bright smile Reed put a disk in the appropriate console, grabbed a controller for himself, and sat next to his lover. "It's a racing game with characters from Mario games. It's ridiculous and fairly low stakes, but it's fun."

"I suppose I've no choice but to trust your judgment." When the game got to the track selection screen, Loki pointed to one of them. "I think I like the looks of that one."

"Oh, no, Rainbow Road is probably the hardest track on here and you've never played."

"It looks like the Bifrost."

Reed rolled his eyes. "The Rainbow Bridge, Rainbow Road, of course."

"You said yourself it's a low stakes game."

"Alright, fine, but don't blame me when you fall off and die." Reed hit the A button. "Also, watch out for blue shells."

"Blue shells?"

"You'll see."

The game started and within moments, Loki made a strangled sound of frustration as his kart careened off the side of the track into empty space, falling until he was rescued by Lakitu. Reed pressed his lips together, refraining from telling Loki he'd told him so. Not long later, Reed swerved to avoid a shell which then collided with Loki's kart, sending him off the track again. After falling off three more times, Loki dropped his controller. Reed paused the game and set his own controller down. "Are you okay?"

"This was a bad idea." Loki looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Whoa, hey, it's just a game."

"It's not the game."

"Then what is it?"

Loki shook his head.

"Loki, what's wrong?" Reed put a cautious, comforting hand on his back.

Loki took several shaky breaths, then slowly, painfully explained having let the Jotun into Asgard years before, the fight with his brother on the Bifrost, and falling—falling for so, so long. Reed eased Loki down on the couch, his head in the agent's lap, gentle fingers carding through his long black hair. Memories of his youth hit Loki with the force of a physical blow—he'd sat with Frigga like this as a child, still believing she had borne him. He took another breath and started talking, telling Reed everything. Petty boyhood fights with Thor; spending three weeks as a girl to get out of swordsmanship lessons he didn't want to go to until Sif had dragged him, kicking and cursing, to the practice field by the laces of his dress, firmly telling him that being female was no excuse for not learning to wield a blade; knowing by the pinched looks on his parents' faces whenever he shapeshifted that he was somehow different; taking the tesseract, thinking he could control it, and being helpless against its power when he realized it had begun to control him, taking every scrap of fear and spite and darkness inside him and twisting it all until he bent to its will; prison and knowing how incredibly disappointed Frigga was in him.

Reed listened without judging, letting him rant and cry and, on occasion, scream; allowing him to get up and pace only to lay his head on Reed's knee again. Once Loki had talked himself hoarse, Reed leaned down and kissed his hair. "It's okay."

Loki closed his eyes, found Reed's hand, and laced their fingers together. "I—you are—I think..." He took a breath, struggling to voice the most terrifying thought he'd ever had in his long life. "I think I may, quite possibly, love you..."

Reed blinked several times, smiled, and squeezed Loki's hand. "I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N: So that happened...  
Reviews greatly appreciated.**


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